Metropolitan
by Cosmopolitan Philharmonic
Summary: Harker the Gallade is of high caliber and intelligence, often lending his ingenious detective skills to the New Tork City Police, though he has been described as aloof and friendless. It isn't until Robyn the Gardevoir, assumed to be conventional and average, enters the scene, thus creating a chaotic twist of events that bloom into a long-lasting, deeply-bound friendship.
1. Debut of the Remains, I

**Episode I: Debut of the Remains**

A/N: It's been quite some time since I had written any fanfiction, but I have plenty of excuses to not write anything including procrastination and schoolwork. Also, I was flirting around with digital art, and my deviantArt account has some digital artworks I made with SAI Paint. As fun as doing digital (and traditional) art was, I feel much more at ease in expressing creativity through words. I love doing anything with the visual arts in general, but at the end of the day, it's clearly writing over the visual arts. Basically, this is my comeback along with some new other fanfiction on my profile (so I apologize if I make any mistakes in the writing that I didn't pick up or if my writing in general seems that craggy and unpolished) that I'm trying to set myself to finish by the end of this summer before college begins — in which case I most likely will fail at.

* * *

This is a work of fanfiction. The writer does not in any way or form own Pokémon. Pokémon belongs to Nintendo/Game Freak. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the writer's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental and is not intended by the writer.

* * *

"People inspire you, or they drain you – pick wisely." – Hans F. Hansen

* * *

_Mr. V. Harker Sterne_

_416 Riverside Drive_

_New Tork, New Tork City 10025_

_To V. Harker Sterne:_

_Greetings, Harker. I hope you don't find this letter an obtrusion._

_I was given notice that the previous two companions I had hired for you were not suitable; therefore, __I have recently hired a new companion for you. She is a Gardevoir, the counterpart to your own species, Gallade. It is for this reason that I assume you may have an easier time to communicate with one another due to similar species' relations in order to help you to cope with any possible lingering complications concerning the incident and loss of Harrison. Like the former companions, I have hired her to live with you for a set time; I should hope you have kept the previous spare room empty for her._

_To give a bit of a background, her name is Cynthia Robyn. _

_Please do not hesitate to contact me for any further questions._

_With the kindest regards,_

_J. W. H. Sterne_

* * *

**Prologue: Murder**

It was only a few minutes past one in the morning.

Angelica Costello Brent waited anxiously for her clandestine lover, staring longingly out at the open, glamorous panorama of New Tork City in her eight-figure apartment. Exclusively wearing her luxurious, leopard-print silk robe, she sat against the cold, dark grey wall, her long legs wrapped around with her slender arms like a holiday present, clutching a ubiquitous iPhone in her hand.

She was not unlike the typical model; given a tall and lanky physique with an enviable, natural tan, it was only natural for her to make a living out of something as a modern muse. Admired from universally all haute couture circles, she was often lauded from the most reserved of fashion designers to the most conventional of pop stars. The ever-greedy tabloids chased after her like a predator after its prey, perpetually clawing away as much gossip about her as they could assemble, always hindered by her expectedly stalwart security guards.

She murmured something inarticulate in the stiff silence, tempted to glance over her iPhone for the umpteenth time to check for any potential texts.

At the definite point in which she had finished murmuring, the doorbell rang out its familiar mock carillon tones, ringing eerily throughout the apartment. Her heart eagerly jumped at the sound of the doorbell's ring, and the woman rushed to the door, opening it without a second thought.

"You're here!" she said, short of breath, relieved at his arrival. Immediately, she clenched to him, her head resting just below his chin. The raw, autumn, nocturnal winds briskly snapped into her apartment.

"Angel, honey," he greeted calmly in his smooth tenor, his mouth near her ear. "I was so desperate to see you throughout the entire week."

"I know, honey, I'm terribly sorry we couldn't see each other sooner—"

"That doesn't matter. I am here, and _this_ is all that matters." He closed the door behind him conveniently with an arm, leaving the entrance to the apartment exposed at its unlocked deadbolt.

The man lowered himself to kiss her; Angelica responded instantly, craving for him. The blood flowed faster in their systems, their heartbeats racing against each other hurriedly, anxiously, impatiently.

"I'm too much in love with you." She gasped for air after their kiss, cupping his face with both of her hands, standing on her toes, her breath against his. "I can't be alone like this anymore, do you understand, I _need—_"

She abruptly paused with an unnatural jerk, her voice cracking like a wineglass dropping to the floor. Something felt strange, where was it now, somewhere deeply buried below her breasts and above her stomach, a rigid, cold, intense cutlass—

There was a knife inside her.

She screamed, the hideous sound echoing throughout the apartment.

* * *

**I: Robyn the Gardevoir**

_Dear Ms. Cynthia Robyn:_

_ Due to a number of recommendations from various professionals, I am requesting your companion services to a close family member of mine: Vladimir Harker Sterne. He is a Gallade of high caliber and intelligence; however, there has been a recent incident involving the loss of his dear trainer, Harrison Sterne, who was also my son. He has been rehabilitated to the best of the staff at the Linden Rehabilitation Center, though I still fear for any remaining concerns left in him._

_ Please contact me with the number listed above to confirm if you are interested._

_With the kindest regards,_

_J. W. H. Sterne_

* * *

_Dear Ms. Cynthia Robyn:_

_ I am grateful for your decision in accepting the position. In this letter, I give you his address and contact details._

_ Mr. V. Harker Sterne_

_ 416 Riverside Drive_

_ New Tork, New Tork City 10025_

_Cellphone: 646-555-1460_

_ I should hope that everything goes well with Harker in your upcoming meeting. In the meantime, should you have any further questions, please contact me._

_With the kindest regards,_

_J. W. H. Sterne_

* * *

The next morning began with the typical routine of early, New Tork activities. Merchants prepared their makeshift markets alongside streets, coffee shops opened with the quintessential scent of hot espresso, humans and Pokémon alike rushed to work via taxi and subway while schoolchildren eagerly awaited their yellow buses to drive them to school. The sun was shining as it ever was while the crisp air hinted of autumn's anticipated arrival.

In contemporary SoHo, a high-end neighborhood of Downtown New Tork, Cynthia Robyn the Gardevoir woke from her single sized bed in her cramped room. An alarm on her Samsung Note rang with a repetitive accent, prompting the Gardevoir to glance at her smart phone which listed the duties for the day.

_Right, I have to buy some groceries for Jackie today, and then I have to pick up Fred's coats at the dry cleaner's after…_

The Gardevoir scrolled down the lock screen, reading the last task.

_And then… I have to meet a Gallade, Vladimir Harker Sterne. I'm his new companion. I'll have to pack up a few things then…_

Robyn stretched, readying herself for the upcoming day. Making her way to the nearby bathroom, she washed herself, eventually settling into the rhythm of the new day.

Cynthia Robyn was not the typical Gardevoir one might have expected. She lacked any standard variety of green hues, instead being born with a glistening, powder blue color, what many humans had dubbed her as a "shiny." Her soft-wavy hair fell midway to her back, ending with an elegant curve twirling upright.

She held select occupations, usually alternating between professions of the medical field to small occupations of the musical field. Her own ex-trainer, Diane Song, had been a full-time cardiac surgeon, and often required assistance in the hospital, giving help that allowed Robyn to utilize her psychic healing powers. While Robyn had never attended any school of medicine to obtain any degree of qualification, she had done an impressive amount of medical self-studies on her own, and with Diane's help, she was granted an alternative degree of qualification. Thus, she was able to legally aid her surgeon-trainer even in the most serious of medical procedures, and she felt pure content at being able to save others' lives.

Aside from assisting her surgeon-trainer, Robyn found immense joy in the world of music. She was born within the buildings of New Tork City, and since she had human culture influence her entire life, even before her conception, it went without doubt that as a Pokémon, she would pick up something from its culture to grow with. For this Pokémon, it was the metaphysical beauty of music. As a young Ralts, she heard a wide variety of repertoire, from listening to her first symphonies by Beethoven and Mozart to exclusive solo repertoire by Bach, and after evolving to Kirlia — therefore reaching a point where she was physically able to play an instrument — she selected the voice that she felt closest to: the violin.

With these two occupations, she found herself working odd hours throughout much of her life. One time, there would be a five-hour surgery in which she and Diane skipped their lunch to complete; another time, working in the night shift, there would be an emergency called through that required the skill only Robyn and Diane had, the operation lasting until the early hours of morning. Then, perhaps after an operation, the Gardevoir would have to dash to the subway to catch a train to somewhere with her violin. One time, it was a small chamber music concert in which one violinist called in sick, unable to play with the group; another time, the prestigious New Tork Philharmonic needed all of the extra reinforcement required for the strings — they had demanded the largest contingent of strings possible to conquer Mahler's 2nd; it was something the score demanded as well — and Robyn, with her admirable enthusiasm and dexterity, successfully landed a chair in the orchestra to play the powerful symphony, performing under the baton of an internationally renowned conductor.

It was a decent life — while constantly switching between the medical world and the musical world, she felt satisfied with her living and saw no reason to change anything.

Until it happened.

The memories were too painful for Robyn to completely recall, though she did know it had begun on a completely innocent accident. At least, Robyn would have liked to call it a completely innocent accident, but it would be hard for another party to accept.

A long-time patient of Diane, an important figure of a Fortune 500 company, was planned to undergo a major operation, a heart transplant. The plan was straightforward in itself, but one tiny mistake could end up causing a significant consequence, increasing the chance of death.

Of all the chances that were in store for them, the patient died.

Immediately, and understandably, the dead patient's family sued both Diane and Robyn for careless malpractice, a complete loss for the two. Her ex-trainer's surgical license was revoked, as well as Robyn's, leaving them jobless. And, as if that tragedy could not destroy enough, Diane had passed away within a few weeks of the trial. The memories here were too muddy for her to attempt to clearly recall, and the shock of Diane's passing paralyzed her to the core of her heart from focusing on the situation in the first place, but the officials had ruled it as a suicide.

For some months, Robyn felt like an empty doll, lifeless inside and out. She had remaining family members to help cope with her, but as time lapsed onward, what had initially shattered her became memories of the past.

Afterwards, the Gardevoir still wanted to find ways to keep others physically healthy, regardless if she had lost her own medical license. While she contemplated on becoming a full-time violinist, she didn't feel it was quite right for her to become one. Thus, she found solace in providing companionship for medical patients of all sorts, whether they were last stages of healing from their own trauma or if they needed a general, everyday companion to keep themselves occupied for a time.

This was Robyn's life at present. It resumed its easy sifting between the nursing field and the musical field, and she found that she was doing rather satisfactory, even if Diane was gone forever. Her family that she lived with now was a small but tightly knit household that included Fred Alistair, Diane's husband, a handsome man with kind eyes and Nicole, Diane and Fred's only biological daughter, a half-Asian and half-white seven-year-old. Jackie the Dusknoir, Robyn's sister, also lived with the family; the Dusknoir had been one of Diane's Pokémon as well, though after Diane had gone, she chose to remain with the family, having become closely attached to both Fred and Nicole like Robyn had.

As Robyn finished preparing herself, she could smell the scent of warm, mellow breakfast wafting around the apartment. Outside her room, she could hear Nicole excitedly clamoring for the new day.

The Gardevoir walked out of her room, heading for the kitchen. Nicole sat at the kitchen table, greeting Robyn. She smiled, saying hello in return. From the opposite side of the kitchen, Fred greeted the family, fully dressed in his business suit.

"_Yes, good morning to everyone on this fine day!_" Jackie greeted in her usual, enthusiastic voice as everyone gathered around the family table. "_Breakfast has just finished cooking! Everything's all set, just allow me to pour coffee and tea into everyone's cups._"

On the table, an assortment of fruits sat in a dark, wooden bowl laid in the center while each individual was given their own plate of breakfast, resting upon ebony, vinyl placemats. Silverware neatly lined against the breakfasts as empty mugs and glasses sat nearby. Each breakfast had a quintessential look: fresh bacon, steaming scrambled eggs, and crisp waffles cloaked with golden, maple syrup. Robyn's breakfast was the only exception (she was a devoted vegetarian), her plate topped with oven-roasted potatoes and steamed corn.

"_So, Robyn_," Jackie began as she remained floating by the table, pouring tea in a cup. Chairs were unnecessary for the Ghost-Type Pokémon. "_You're leaving us today for your new companion?_"

"I am," the Gardevoir replied simply after swallowing a piece of a potato. She had told the family a few days before about accepting her new job.

"You'll promise to visit us every day, won't you Robyn?" Nicole asked through a mouthful, her eyes pleading the Gardevoir. When she had initially heard the news of Robyn's leaving again, Nicole was heartbroken at seeing the Gardevoir go once again.

Robyn smiled warmly. "Of course I will!"

Fred chuckled. "You can always count on Robyn to visit."

"Like before, I'll drop by for a couple of hours and try to help do some small errands," Robyn went on, taking a sip of her earl grey tea.

"But I wish Robyn would stay with us all the time, like Jackie," Nicole complained, looking down at her plate. "I don't want her to keep going away all the time."

Robyn released a quiet sigh, inaudible to the young girl. "Nicole, I promise that every time I come back home, I'll visit you. We can do whatever you'd like then, okay?"

"Yeah, you better promise," Nicole suddenly said with a bold emphasis, revitalized from the previous disheartening mood. She pointed a finger at the Gardevoir. "Last time you went away on your companion job you didn't visit me for one whole week!"

Fred shot Robyn a subtle glance, mouthing, "Don't worry about it. If you're busy again, we understand."

Robyn nodded faintly in response to Fred. Turning to Nicole, she said with a laugh, "I'll try to make sure it won't happen again."

"It better not!"

"_Oh, Nicole, if you keep babbling you won't get your breakfast finished in time to walk to school!_" Jackie admonished the girl, indicating the oblong clock hanging on the wall.

"Okay," Nicole said in a conventional sing-song voice, obediently returning to her breakfast.

In the following events, Fred would be the first to finish breakfast, heading straight for work. Quickly afterwards, Jackie would accompany Nicole to her school, while Robyn swiftly bought groceries and picked up Fred's coats from the dry cleaner's.

The morning was conventional, until Robyn's meeting with Harker the Gallade would otherwise steer the conventionality into something uniquely unconventional.


	2. Debut of the Remains, II

**Episode I: Debut of the Remains**

A/N: I just recently realize that though I initially planned my characters Robyn and Harker to form a purely platonic friendship, there is the circumstance in which then I, the writer, am forced to realize that these two could possibly fall in love. It's a possibility that I'm throwing in there in case any readers out there now are potentially thinking of romantically shipping these two together, but the characters/story plot needs to play itself out before any further kind of romantic development can even begin to start. Also, with the way I'm setting up the characters at the moment, I know it'll take a _reeeaaalllly _long time before any opportunity for romance can actually grow between them, and again, I do acknowledge the possibility of a romance blooming between them.

Anybody who wants to romantically ship them now has my acknowledgement. However, I'm still holding onto my original plan as keeping them as platonic buddies.

* * *

**II. Harker the Gallade**

Along the quiet sector of Riverside Drive in the Upper West Side, nestled between the grand, imposing buildings of Columbia University, lied the home of Vladimir Harker Sterne. It was a handsome brownstone, constructed with white limestone, designed by acclaimed, prewar architects of the past in a neo-renaissance style. Intricate iron cornices ornamented the windows along the brownstone's façade while the entry door, though crafted with fiberglass-composites in faux wood fashion, was exquisite, taking the shade of flawless mahogany, a laurel wreath carved directly above in stone. Its elegance was topped off with an antiquity of a sort; augmenting years of weathering had slowly formed its once-new vigor into aged vestige. In spite of this, it was physically a strong-standing building, durable enough to hold all of its five floors.

Being in a quaint neighborhood of such scholarly atmosphere had its own charms. The ethereal Riverside Church was merely a few distances away as well as the towering Cathedral of St. John the Divine, providing an influence of stately, magnificent auras around Harker's home. Columbia University, an Ivy League college of high prestige, resided directly next to the home as well, providing easy access to documents and information. Should Harker have ever required any help to solve a mystery of any sort, and he lacked the resources within his own home, the university was only a few steps away, granting him an everlasting fountain of information to gather together for his conclusions. A little further beyond, still within the elegant neighborhood, was the esteemed Manhattan School of Music, in which Harker often visited in listening to diverse music, ranging from classic Baroque suites to refreshing contemporary songs.

Beyond the buildings was Riverside Park, a docile public park providing a comforting, green haven for participating in any common sport during the warm seasons. In the colder seasons, it offered a kind of reflective solace, allowing any individual to turn into a mystic, pondering excessively into the wonders of life. At a close distance was the Henry Hudson Parkway, perpetually streaming with cars all along the west side of Manhattan. The Hudson River lay adjacent to the parkway, reflecting a myriad of blue hues from the sunlight.

While the exterior of Harker's home had its graceful charms, the interior posed everything of the opposite.

Presently in his sparse kitchen, Harker sat on a chair by the decrepit wooden table, a half-finished breakfast lying nearby, ignored and abandoned. The Gallade held a letter with one hand, his eyes focused on the text written.

He reread the letter multiple times, even though he knew it wouldn't change the fact that this Gardevoir named Cynthia Robyn was coming. The fact that Sterne, that arrogant fool, had decided to take the matters in his hands once again and prove Harker's inferiority over and over infuriated him. Harker's detest for Sterne was already potent enough; did the man have a death wish?!

_I purposely angered the two previous companions for a reason. I had absolutely no need of them to interfere with my life,_ he thought, ready to crumple the letter in his hands. _Damn you. You made Harrison suffer, and now you wish to do the same upon me._

In disgust, he suddenly ripped the letter within his hands, the pieces flying wildly to the floor. Immediately after, he stood up from his chair, swiftly striding his way out of the kitchen.

"We'll see how persistent this new _companion_ is," Harker spat. "It shouldn't be long before she is driven away."

Back at the kitchen counter, Harker's iPhone rang, the caller ID reading _Captain Bradley._ The Gallade paused, composing himself as he made his way to the ringing phone.

"Captain," Harker greeted, his interest piqued. Captain Bradley's call could have only meant one thing.

"We need your help again, so if you could meet us here…"

* * *

**III. Gardevoir Meets Gallade; Gallade Meets Gardevoir**

The 1 Train roared away further to uptown Manhattan as Robyn walked with an authoritarian pace, expertly moving by people and Pokémon alike from colliding into them mid-street. On one shoulder was a worn-out but sturdy tote bag, holding important, everyday belongings while a hand gripped around a small suitcase, containing personal possessions. The Gardevoir wore a knee-length fall coat, suitably keeping her warm from the mildly cool air while a thick grey scarf enveloped her neck and shoulders.

Robyn, preferring to be the punctual type, already memorized Harker's address; it was to her surprise that his home was in the midst of an essentially academically-dominated neighborhood. Such a location prompted the Gardevoir to wonder what kind of client the Gallade was, though she also remembered Mr. Sterne (this title was what she assumed she had to call him for the rest of the time he hired her) stating that Harker was of, as was put, "high caliber and intelligence."

Making her way through the quiet streets of row-housed brownstones and university halls, she soon spotted an elegant, creamy white brownstone, clearly marked _416 Riverside Drive._

The front door was open.

Confused, Robyn reluctantly began walking up the stairs to the doorway. Upon arriving at the opened entrance, she rang the doorbell, waiting patiently outside. No voice of consent came to reply.

The Gardevoir leaned into the entrance, her head in the foyer as her body inclined forward. Her ears perked at the faint sound coming from above; what she heard was a soft jumble of sounds, all indistinguishable. Around, the wainscot walls were topped with gentle beige plasters, its wall treatments slowly peeling off.

Robyn took a breath, stepping in the foyer with silent grace. If Harker suddenly demanded who she was, she would have a proper explanation. There really wasn't anything to worry about, even if she had walked in his home without his approval.

Directly in her line of vision was a wooden staircase, seemingly inviting the Gardevoir to the floors above. As she walked, she quickly registered the first floor room: a messy library with dark walnut bookshelves aligned against the worn-out walls and an unlit, marble fireplace. Strewn upon wing chairs and sofas were open manila folders and jacketless books, various papers scattered across. In the distance, she could make out the shape of a black baby grand piano, followed by wires and a couple of computer monitors resting on desks.

Turning her head away, Robyn continued on upwards, her ears leading her to the direction of the sounds. They were more distinct now, equivalent to a menagerie of modern sounds. She heard the singing voice of a cello, a radio host energetically spewing political opinions, a calm narrator narrating a novel, diverse taps of what she guessed to be the Morse code…

The Gardevoir turned again as she arrived on the second floor, a new vision registering before her eyes. She saw a Gallade, a shade of dark pastel blue, turned towards the windows, standing immaculately still as he held a remote control. Around, several television monitors grouped in front of the windows, with sound speakers placed spasmodically throughout the room. Opened books lay scattered on the floor, each placed with purpose.

Despite the strange first impression given, Robyn considered interrupting the Gallade; surely, this was Vladimir Harker Sterne. Yet upon closer observation, she could see that he was a good head higher than her, and there was almost an intimidating aura he gave off. Something inside her stopped her from saying anything, though she held her solid footing.

The Gallade turned his head around slowly, his eyes meeting Robyn's. While the Gardevoir felt an impulse to flinch, she kept her gaze steady against his. In the midst, Harker pressed the master control button, shutting off the multitude of sounds that had jumbled out of the speakers.

He spoke. "When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision."

The Gallade turned towards the Gardevoir, walking quietly in front of her. Robyn took a slight step back, keeping calm.

"You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body."

By now, he was barely a foot away from Robyn, their breathings audible to each other.

"No… don't blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn't sound very exciting, does it? But it is!"

There was a stiff silence. Robyn blinked, preparing her statement with a subtle hesitation.

"Ah, hi there. I'm Cynthia Robyn, but you can just call me Robyn."

The Gallade swiftly turned back on Robyn, walking back into the midst of books on the floor, saying nothing in response to the Gardevoir.

"I'm your new companion Mr. Sterne hired me to work with you. I assume that he has notified you about me living with you, which means I'll be available to you twenty-four-seven any time you want."

He picked up a book, glancing at its spine as he put the remote control aside. Satisfied, he looked at its open page and then walked back to Robyn, indicating a page of the book to her.

"You know what I've just said to you? It's an excerpt I've memorized a moment ago from Captain Corelli's Mandolin, written by none other than Louis de Bernières," the Gallade explained coolly. "I'm spot on as ever."

Robyn briefly looked over the open page. _When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness…_

The Gallade tore the book away from her vision before she could read any further. "Anyway, I assume you know me as well. I am Vladimir Harker Sterne." With his free hand, he offered it to Robyn. Slightly surprised, the Gardevoir took it, and the two shook hands.

"Now, in regards to what Sterne has hired you for, I'm going to say right here now that I do not need any companion to help me cope with anything. I am a perfectly healthy individual."

Stunned by his words, Robyn was left confused. "Well… Regardless, Mr. Sterne—"

"If you like, you can accompany me out of the house. I have a job that I must be attending to at the moment, and if your insistence as a companion Sterne has hired is any more stubborn, I'd like to see how long you last before telling the man I have no need for companions for the last time."

Robyn was at a loss for words.

The Gallade went over to a nearby coat racket, picking up a black coat and a plaid, dark red scarf. "But I do wonder about how a Gardevoir like you ended up being a companion. You were once a doctor anyway. Or at least something of the sort, working in the medical field."

"I wasn't really a doc— How do you know that?"

"Your hand. The one you gave me to shake earlier. I could feel the lingering antiseptic. Judging by it, I assume you did surgeries of some sort. Lots of them. After all, no one puts on _that_ much antiseptic to prevent the spread of germs except for those who are doctors, even when they put their latex gloves on before operating." He continued walking throughout the room, finding his iPhone. "Anyhow, we should get going. I wouldn't want to arrive late when Captain Bradley clearly needs my help. You can just leave your suitcase right there; I'll show you your room afterwards."

Struggling to keep herself poised, Robyn asked, "Where are you going?"

"By the way, you can address me as Harker. I never respond to the name Vladimir." The Gallade made his way to the stairs, passing by Robyn. "I am a detective, if Sterne hasn't told you at all."

"Ah, no he hadn't told—"

"Of course he hasn't. The fool clearly doesn't value me." Harker continued walking down the stairs, buttoning up the last of his coat. "We're late. We should catch the next 1 Train as quickly as possible. There's a murder mystery I have to help solve."

* * *

A/N: Okay, so that wasn't too terrible. Next chapter, I'll be introducing some new characters (all human, no Pokémon) who are all side characters, but important nonetheless. One of them was hinted earlier. Also, while I did say Harker and Robyn's relationship is purely a platonic friendship, I still felt like having a little fun in teasing their ship into a romantic one. Again, the romance seems impossible to bloom at this point, and it will be impossible to bloom for a while, but I felt like playing around a bit.


End file.
